She then entered her carriage, which was made of silver-paper. Her castle, her garden, her domestics and her horses, all went off through the air with her, and Gracious now remained alone and sorrowful in her little house of porcelain, which assuredly was very pretty; but what avails prettiness when one is sad? The garden was constantly full of cherries, gooseberries, oranges, and, in short, of all imaginable fruits, always ripe and well-flavoured; the oven, of biscuits, tea-cakes, and macaroons; the store-room, of sweetmeats and confectionery of all kinds: and all these good things might well have consoled her, but she could not enjoy them, for the little chaffinch slept unbrokenly in his cage. She visited him every five minutes, but still he did not wake, and she mentally reproached the fairy with having robbed her of such sweet consolation. At last, after trying vainly every means of awaking him, she resolved to examine him closer, to see if she could not discover the fairy's secret.
It is true she did not arrive at this resolution without that uneasiness and self-reproach which one always feels when acting contrary to an express command. She even opened the cage several times, and then shut it again suddenly; but at last she blamed herself for her timidity, summoned courage, and took the bird in her pretty little hand. No sooner was he out of the cage than he flew out and perched on the window-frame, which most unfortunately she had not closed, so little had she thought on what might occur to her. Embarrassed and alarmed, she endeavoured to catch him again.
The chaffinch flew into the garden, and she jumped out of the window, which fortunately was on the ground-floor; but such was her anxiety that she would have sprung out, had it been on the fourth story. Calling him by the prettiest and tenderest names, she sought to entice him, but whenever she fancied she would certainly catch him, off he flew, from the garden to the field, and on towards a great forest, which filled her with despair, for she knew perfectly well how useless it would be to hunt after a chaffinch in a forest; when suddenly, the bird, of which she had never lost sight, turned into the prince as she had seen him when she was a child.
"What! is it you, Prince Chaffinch," exclaimed she,—"and you fly me?"
"Yes, it is I, lovely Gracious," replied he; "but a supernatural force obliges me to keep far from thee; I desire to approach thee, and cannot."
They now indeed perceived that they were always at least four paces distant from each other. Gracious, enraptured at again seeing the prince, forgot how disobedient she had been to the fairy, and her fears grew calm, in proportion as love took possession of her heart.
As neither of them dared return to the little dwelling which they had left, nor indeed did they know the way back, they went into the wood, gathered nuts, and asked each other a hundred questions as to what had occurred since they last met. They then rejoiced at their good fortune in being again together, and refreshed themselves with the hope of now remaining near each other. At last they saw a peasant's hut, and went to it to request shelter for the night, that they might resolve on what they should do the next day.
The prince, when they got very near to it, said to Gracious, "Wait here under this great tree, whilst I go and reconnoitre the house and its inhabitants."
When he got there, he found a woman who was sweeping before her door, and of her he inquired if she would receive him and Gracious for the night into her house.
The old woman answered: "You seem to me to be two disobedient children, who have run away from your parents, and do not deserve to meet with compassion."